


Random Drabbles/Oneshots

by TiredHydra922876



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-10
Updated: 2020-09-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:20:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 705
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26387821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TiredHydra922876/pseuds/TiredHydra922876
Summary: Just a place for me to dump stuff.Chapter 1 is inspired by Chapter 3 of Cypress_Leaves's Cypress' Drabbles and Ideas (disclaimer: the drabble I wrote for this is bad, I'm sorry)
Comments: 1
Kudos: 8





	Random Drabbles/Oneshots

Nightmare didn’t like bleach.

The other members of the Dark Sanses didn’t know why. And how they’d found out about this fact was random chance, really.

If they had to define Nightmare’s role in their gang, they would unanimously agree that Nightmare was their grouchy old caretaker. He would heal up their wounds – whether those wounds be from battles with the Star Sanses or from them roughhousing with each other for the funsies – with snarls that held thinly veiled affection. He would separate them from each other with his hulking tentacles whenever arguments went just a bit too far and would comfort them in their reoccurring panic attacks. But the thing that sealed the deal when it came to saying that Nightmare was definitely in that role for them was his absolute _obsession_ with cleanliness.

By the time that the rest of the gang was awake, ready to request Horror for whatever they felt like eating that day, Nightmare was already at work: scrubbing away fiercely at the floors and counters and even the doorknobs with disinfectant and sponges. Some of the gang wondered if Nightmare even slept at all at night. Their home was a big place to clean, after all.

But that was beside the point. The point was that Nightmare burned through a lot of cleaning supplies every day. So, the other members of the gang decided to research some cleaning products to buy for Nightmare as a gift. And that was what led them to discover Nightmare’s… aversion... to a certain cleaning product.

Nightmare had screamed at the top of his non-existent lungs when he saw the bottle of bleach hidden under the gigantic pile of other supplies the gang had bought. He ran off, still screaming, all the way to his room to the gang’s utter confusion. Nightmare later sent down orders to keep the rest of the supplies, but to burn the bleach.

So, of course, they did the exact opposite.

One burnt pile of cleaning supplies later, the gang was ready to set their trap.

\-------------------~*~*~-------------------

“Shhh!”

“We’re being quiet, Cross!”

“Not quiet _enough_! Be **x** tra quiet!”

“…Good pun.”

“Thanks, Dust.”

Their plan – and trap – was simple. Cross, Horror, Dust and Killer were crouched behind the couches, out of sight from the living room’s door. When Nightmare walked through said door, Error, from his position latched on the ceiling with the help of his strings, would pull the bucket resting on the frame of the door, again with his strings. The bucket, filled with the bleach from before, would land on Nightmare’s head. Ba-da-bing, ba-da-boom, prank achieved. Like they said, simple.

And so they waited.

And waited.

And waited.

At one point, Dust and Killer started playing poker – Nightmare was taking his sweet time dammit – but footsteps coming down the stairs shot them back into laser-sharp focus.

The footsteps got closer… Cross tensed.

…Closer… Error readied his strings.

…Closer… Killer slurped at his smoothie.

The door opened and Cross shrieked. “NOW!”

Error jerked his strings backward and the bleach hit its target.

Nightmare was absolutely _doused_ in bleach.

The rest all opened their mouths to laugh and readied their hands to high-five over a successful prank, but they paused when the screech that their boss let out was genuinely fearful. As Nightmare again zipped up to his room, the gang wondered if they would have to apologize.

…As it turned out, they did.

“Night!” Killer whined. “Please! Just come out already; we’re sorry!”

As had been the case for the last five hours, no reply came from behind the door.

“Forget it.” Dust said, hands in his pockets. “He’s not gonna come out. Let’s just leave him alone for now.”

“Wait.” Nightmare’s voice came out from behind the door. The gang all turned their attention to the door. “If you don’t laugh… I’ll come out.”

The gang all nodded solemnly. “We won’t laugh.”

“Good. Because if you do, I’ll snap your spines and leave your dust outside for the others to sweep up.”

…

“Wait, why would we laugh anyway-?”

The door swung open.

And the gang saw that Nightmare’s goop was dyed bright white.

Needless to say, the gang had quite a bit of dust to sweep up.


End file.
